


Magic Lessons

by dearcaspian



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Comfort, Elemental Magic, Fluff, Magic, Multi, Other, Romance, Short One Shot, Very mildly steamy at the end, a bit domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearcaspian/pseuds/dearcaspian
Summary: In which elemental magic proves more difficult to wrangle than Caspir originally thought, despite their teacher's insistent encouragement.





	Magic Lessons

The magic crackles between their outstretched hands. It fluctuates smoothly between blue and a shade whiter than the desert heat, a hue previously seen and rapidly becoming common among the other variations. Caspir had been told their connection to the ever constant spring of power within them would begin to stabilize once those pathways were effectively strengthened, thus revealing truer natures to their abilities. The colors were a positive sign, encouragement made corporeal and distinct.

Caspir looks to Asra, who waits patiently off to the side. He gives an eager thumbs up. The innocent excitement of the gesture momentarily distracts them from the weight of the matter at hand.

“You’re doing fantastic,” Asra says. His smile is a beacon among the dappled shadows of the room above the shop, bathed in the fading brilliance of the late afternoon sun. “See if you can focus the energy into a single point.”

The apprentice nods. Uncertainty spikes as they slowly wield their hands around the growing light. This type of energy always felt unstable - no matter how much discipline they attempted to exert over the forces called forth, the electricity eventually struggled against the set boundaries every time, spitting and sliding out of control.

“Slower,” Asra calls, assured as ever. “Lessen the channels from which it pours out. You’re not a vessel, you’re the navigator.”

The flickering hiss of the lightning grows calm until it settles into a dim background hum. Caspir narrows the gap between their hands and then widens it quickly after, stretching their arms cautiously out. The hub of magic lengths with their insistent pull. Wild offshoots of electric intensity turn sleek, bending to Caspir’s will. Soon a pulsating ribbon of magic hovers in front of them, flaring hot, obediently following each gentle tug and beckon.

A connection settles into life, deep-rooted avenues blinking awake in their mind, carving a way back to this state of skill Caspir would now be able to find again with much less effort than before. They watch in awe as the magic curls around them, looping and spiraling in even patterns. 

Their grin rivals Asra’s as the swirl of electricity is directed over to him. It lingers harmlessly some feet above his head.

“Look at what you’ve created, Cas,” Asra comments quietly, admiration swelling forth. He reaches up and Caspir’s blossoming magic narrows to twirl in a thin line through his outstretched and unaffected fingers. “I knew you could.”

Caspir takes a step back, elated with their success and Asra’s pride - and promptly trips over a corner of the rug.

They fall towards the floor in a sequence of agonizingly slow seconds, unable to do anything to keep the following events from unfolding. The scene appears suspended: Asra reaches for them, one foot raised. Their magic bursts from a velvety spiral into a frenzy of crackling mania, fully unleashed in the absence of supervision. Static presses in from all sides of the room, stifling and uncomfortable, building to a single point of pressure in the middle of Caspir’s chest.

They hit the ground. Asra stumbles just as a thunderous boom flashes powerfully overhead, leaving them both in stunned silence and no trace of any magic to be felt.

Caspir looks up, one elbow propped painfully to the side. The two briefly study each other for any sign of injuries. Finding none, Asra clears his throat

“That was…” he pats fruitlessly at the strands of his hair standing on end. “Interesting.”

“Gods,” mutters Caspir, and flops over.

Asra feels guilty for the laugh he has to immediately stifle. Caspir is a still and hopeless form spread across the rug, hair puffing in a static halo. The sight coaxes similar memories from his first experiences with magic many years ago. It isn’t amusing in the slightest.

Okay, he thinks, it was somewhat amusing, if only due to the affection he found in their unhappy pouting. He drifts over to where Caspir lies and drops next to them, offering a reassuring arm.

“It’s alright,” he says. “You did splendidly. Elemental magics are always unstable in the beginning, especially a talent such as this.”

Caspir grips his hand and pulls themself into a sitting position, legs bent limply against Asra’s. “I wouldn’t call it a talent.”

“It is,” protests Asra. “There are multiple sides to abilities of this nature. You’ve come first into the one most people usually uncover further along the way. You just need to find the calmer aspects of your magic as well.”

They make a noise between a snort and a huff. “Calm. Why couldn’t it have been water magic?”

“You could learn that too, if you wish.” Asra smiles. “But even that can be unpredictable.”

Laying their head on Asra’s shoulder, Caspir sighs, unwilling to show how unnerved they were over the lesson’s results. Asra appeared to know regardless. He smooths down their flyaway locks, sneaking a kiss to their temple.

“Something tells me you say this from experience,” Caspir mumbles into his shirt.

“Something tells you correctly.”

“Was it worse than this?”

Asra shakes his head. “This is nothing. I once knocked a potential thief into the sea by the docks with a wave taller than both of us combined. It was meant to be much smaller, of course. I never intended to push him over, only…”

“If ‘startle him’ were your next words,” Caspir interrupts, “I believe you must have done an excellent job.”

Asra fails to keep his frown steady. “I suppose. I don’t take lightly to thieves.” 

“What had he stolen which was so important?”

“A favorite figurine of mine,” he admits, “meant for someone special.”

“Did they appreciate it?”

“I like to think so.”

Caspir sighs again, sliding lower against Asra. 

“Am I ever going to manage this? It feels as if it’s going to burst forth unexpectedly half the time or electrocute me from the inside out otherwise.”

He wraps a consoling arm around them. “You’ll manage.” 

“Perhaps I should stick to something else.”

“People can’t choose their inborn affinities, Cas.”

They shrug. “It’s lawless magic.”

“Then you’re the anarchist.”

“I prefer spirited.”

Asra bursts into a surprised laugh. He shifts until they are across from each other and sweeps a hand beneath Caspir’s jaw, tilting their chin until they are forced to meet his eyes. 

“Cas,” he says firmly. “You will figure this out. Your capability rivals only your intelligence and I promise, you can tame this magic. It’s a part of you. If you keep calling, it will come.”

Caspir searches Asra’s face and finds only a rush of genuine honesty, respect for what they had accomplished to this point and a steadfast belief that their self-supposed failings were nothing of the sort at all.

“Do you believe me?,” he asks, thumb moving gently back and forth across their cheek.

“Do I have a choice?” Caspir replies, lips parting ever so slightly as Asra runs a fingertip across them.

“Every choice is your own. What do I keep telling you?”

“You’ll have faith in me until I have it for myself.”

“And I meant it. I still do”

“Okay, okay,” Caspir relents, “I believe you.”

“Wonderful.” 

“Yes, you are.”

“I prefer mysterious.”

“Fine. Now that you have me this close, _ Master _ of mystery” Caspir says slyly, placing a palm over Asra’s, which still effectively held them in place, “the least you could do is give me a kiss.”

“For your troubles?” Asra laughs, and complies to the wish with an enthusiasm that eventually pushes Caspir gently back onto the floor.

“You know,” Caspir whispers into the open pause now hovering tense amidst them, hyper aware of the heady warmth of Asra’s lean figure stretched out above. “I’ve been thinking. This magic could have other uses.”

“Oh?” Asra murmurs absently, half-occupied by the exposed skin of their shoulder against his mouth. 

They touch the back of his neck, grinning as he shivers at the faint tingle running down his spine. Their fingers flicker blue, faint sparks dancing around them in the air like the cast off embers of a dying flame.

“That’s one way to practice.” Asra eyes them breathlessly. “Care to show me more?”

 

Later, as Caspir falls asleep, tucked snugly into Asra’s side, their eyes alight on the set of shelves against the opposite wall. They wonder for a fleeting and soon forgotten moment about the tiny fox figure perched at the end of a row of similar clay creations, a gift given too far back for them to recall. 


End file.
